Recently I found the old three ring binder I kept all of my poetry and other writing in during high school. I opened it briefly and noticed that the piece on top was from the summer after my senior year– over 15 years old. I am kind of afraid to read it. I remember a number of my (not exactly good) poems quite well. But the piece on top, I have no memory of, so there’s bound to be a few surprises. I guess I should mostly just look at it with the thought that at least I’ve gotten better.
High School Poetry